


Ouroboros

by Beautiful_Phantom



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Timelines, Character Development, Demon!Kagome, Developing Relationship, Divergent Timelines, Fanart, Gen, Illustrations, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, InuYasha: Canon Divergence, Kuroshitsuji: Alternative Universe, Not Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Revenge, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-05-19 20:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Phantom/pseuds/Beautiful_Phantom
Summary: Abandoned by God, he was left to despair. She came, with promises to fulfill his wishes—for vengeance, but for a price. Giving in to the snake's temptation, he raged Hell upon all those who wronged him, yet there were still questions left unanswered and cruel men left alive. Until that day comes, she will serve with a wicked smile. Troublesome rewritten!In which Kagome is Ciel's butler instead. Alternative timeline.





	1. His Butler, Dutiful

"Good night, milord." A hand smoothed down the duvet he was under, to assure him of her presence. It didn't linger long, departing as quickly as it came. Few clicks of heels sounded.

Lights extinguished, blanketing all in the choking darkness.

He hadn't meant to.

He swore he hadn't meant to.

His hand darted out from underneath the cover and grasped a tail of her jacket. His words fled without his permission, "Please don't leave me." He wetted his chapped lips, not registering the slight stings from small cuts he gained from what seemed like a lifetime ago.

The clicks stopped, and the presence closed in, "Not quite an order I'd expect from you—wasn't I a monster to you?" Her voice was silk, slick with ill amusement.

He wasn't deaf to laughter hidden within. Jerking his hand back as if it was burnt, he buried himself deeper in his bed, "Don't leave me." He repeated, almost begging.

"I'll never understand children." She sighed—he wasn't sure if she was annoyed. His… _monster_ , the one who he summoned from the depth of Hell with his desperation and cursing the God, was hard to read still. She danced between amusement, goodnaturedness, professional blandness, and slight annoyances, all seemingly within a matter of seconds.

Demons are supposed to be strange, he decided—in the same way they find humans strange.

"You weren't the one who branded me like a pig." He murmured.

She returned to the spot she was in a moment before. Intrigued, she cast her eyes upon the mound—he could feel the weights of them upon his little, abused body, "Ah, but I branded you, didn't I? Right on that pretty eye of yours." The last word was tinged oddly—something he flinched at.

"Yes, but with my permission. It was an exchange, not a mark of ownership." He agreed, curling in his body tighter, "Everything you do and did, I asked for. You weren't the one who casted Hell upon me and all that I ever loved." He gripped the sheet in between his fingers and gritted his teeth, " _They_ did, and  _I_  will find them and make them suffer!"

A soft laugh echoed across the pitch-black room, "I will not argue, for your words are true. Humans are more of a monster than we are."

"Yes." He answered, perhaps too quickly for his liking, agreeing easily with her words, "…I have to become a monster to gain my vengeance." His body deflated, guilt swept through his every vein.

He strangled a shriek before it ran away in between his teeth, when the darkness  _pulsed_ —like a heartbeat, and roars of rain came after, "I certainly hoped that isn't doubt I hear, milord." She purred.

Ice crept over his skin with fear, when he stared at a gristly claw, blackened skin and rotten, phasing through his flimsy cloth barrier and dug deep into his mattress. He couldn't move, staring wide-eyed at that appendage, when her hissing voice rolled over him like a crashing tide, " _I'd hate to have to end our fun so soon, so_ _ **quickly**_ , milord."

Somehow a burst of anger ripped throughout every fiber of his being, breaking him out of his fear-ridden trance, "No!" He barked, slamming down the white safety down at his waist. Despite the fear hammering in his chest, he glared at the beastly silhouette before his mismatched eyes, one of which had cut through the darkness with a dim glow.

He was bold.

He was almost sure he wouldn't live to see the sun.

Instead, she laughed and shifted away from him, her form normalizing and the deafening drums of rain quietened, "Good! Remember, I will not hesitate. The moment you waver…"

"I'll die. I know." He sneered and his palms ached.

"Heh! Then, we have nothing to worry about, milord." There was a click, "Are you quite positive you wanted me to stay?"

Propping back down on his pillow he took a moment and stared above—he couldn't see much of anything in the dark he knew, but he liked to imagine that he was memorizing the pattern on the fabric canopy. His eyes slid closed, and nodded just once, "Yes."

Defeated, he sighed, "At least until I've fallen asleep."

"We'll have a long day tomorrow." He can hear her red lips curling upward, "So, shall I sing you a lullaby?"

She sounded…deceitful, but was there anyone else he could truly trust? Even he was uncertain of the old steward, and had refused to see any other. There was no desire to humiliate himself in front of his remaining family, in such a pathetic state. The only things he had left were his pride and simmering rage.

"Am I a child, Kagome?" It was odd to say her name—a name he thought was from a mere fairytale. It also felt  _right_ , to call her that too. He could've pick any name out of thousands, and he chose the one from a story he knew by heart.

" _Kagome, Kagome,_  
that little bird in the cage,  
When, oh when will you come out...?"

Even thinking a single line of it gave him goosebumps.

There was a drawn-out hum, "That's a strange question, milord, to ask  _me_." Her silhouette shifted, "I see everyone as a child in my eyes—but if you intended your question in a human logic, then yes, you're still a child."

"…As long as I can suffer no nightmare, do what you like." He turned away and buried himself in his blanket. He curled into a ball and hid himself from the world he once thought was perfect.

Kagome chuckled, "It's merely meant to help you sleep. I have no other intentions for offering such." There was a beat of pause, and an inhale of breath.

His eyes went wide, at the melodic voice swam into his ears—it was so sweet, free of imperfection, that it almost felt  _wrong_.

" _Eheu fugaces, Postume, Postume,_  
labuntur anni nec pietas moram  
rugis et instanti senectae  
adferet indomitaeque morti…"

It sounded like Heaven.

The weight in his eyelids grew heavy.

He knew it wasn't.

When her song ended, he was asleep. Kagome analyzed his peaceful expression and trailed a finger across his bruised skin. Her smile sharpened, "Sweet dreams, Master Ciel."

* * *

Words: 1050

A/N: The one Kagome sang is from DARGAARD - Thy Fleeing Time.

The rewrite of my old story, Troublesome, is finally here. Originally, I intended it to be a fully fledged fic, lengthwise, but…I don't have enough energy for these and I wanted to save some for Consequences.

I rewrote this story so many times. Some of the concepts I originally had in Troublesome were quite nice, but poorly executed. So, I started everything from scratch and worldbuilt quite a bit to make lady butlers possible in that era, researching a good bit about the suffrage movement.

I'll admit: I do not have enough smarts to incorporate politics, so I'll likely skim over it rather than detailing it. Anyway, enough of my rambling. This story, similar to Cracked Porcelain, will be kept within a certain word limit, no less than 1k word but no more than 2k-3k per chapter, and I will attempt to update every other week.

Bonus: I will attempt to do an illustration for each chapter of Ouroboros! You can see them and more in my art blog in tumblr (belle-drawthings in tumblr) under Ouroboros tag! This is an attempt to force myself to draw more often, with less time spent.

Thanks for reading and please do review!


	2. His Butler, Tending

_"Thee shall never achieve a righteous path to the Heaven and shall remain in Hell for all eternity should thee agree. Thy soul shall be mine and before long thee shall become a part of this one, never to be separated. Is that thy final answer?" A veil of cloudy darkness settled, quietening the howling of his terrible prisoners._

_He whimpered, his head pounded with an indescribable pain. The anger he felt consumed him,_ consumed _his soul. "Yes! I demand it! I desire it! I need it! Revenge is my life now!" He pressed his worn face between a gap of the bars of his jail. His decision firm, he shrieked, "Free me, and I will become your master in life, and meal in death!"_

_The she-demon's laughter turned crueler then._

" _As you wish!"_

He startled awake, his eyes wide and he thought he could taste his heart on his tongue. He could see nothing, not at first. It was all white and blurry, and his right eye was  _screaming_. A wince fled, when the joints in his small body locked in protest at the slightest movement. Flipping over onto his belly he choked on air at the aches that struck at his every pathetic muscle, "Nuugh!" Trembles vibrated his fingers and he stared at them with a morbid interest. He didn't miss the bruises and peeling scabs on his hands.

Finally did then everything came into focus and he saw a soft cloud of fabric in his grip. "A bed." He murmured, relieved. He stopped fighting his body and fell into a boneless slump. A pillow spread out from underneath the weight of his head.

Of course he'd be in bed—he woke up half expecting cold metal on his back and teeth of shackle into his ankle. Squeezing his eyes and registering the stab in his right eye he hissed, "That wasn't a dream." Ciel whimpered and glued his eyes shut.

He had to be deaf to the familiar sounds of heels, when bright lights spilled throughout his room, "Good morning, milord." His lady butler greeted, cordially.

Ciel groaned, misted with discomfort at his eyes aching from brightness, "Kagome, was that necessary?" He didn't like how dimmed things seemed to be in his marked eye—it was disorienting and frankly, it made him ill to tolerate for long.

"I was intending to let you sleep in an hour longer," Kagome remarked, her heels told Ciel that she was right by his side, "but you've already awake. There'd be little point in letting you be idling."

Grimacing at her logic Ciel grunted and struggled to flip to face Kagome—something that she noted, "Fine. You're here. What are we to do today?"

The edges of her red lips turned, and she palmed his shoulders to help him up, "First, you'd need a hot bath." Ciel gritted his teeth, "I haven't properly sooth the sore muscles the night previous, because of how exhausted you were. It'd do neither of us good if you were to drown in the tub." Kagome teased—though Ciel knew better.

"Fine." Ciel then hissed when he shifted to get on his feet—but he was stopped, "What!?"

Kagome kept him down on the bed and shook her head, "You need to not strain yourself further, milord. Not today." She eyed him, "You  _do_  remember that it is now my duty to attend to your health, correct?"

"It'll be fine! Wh—hey!" Ciel squawked when he found himself cradled in her arms, "Put me do—!"

"Milord," Kagome interrupted with an aggravated sigh, "please do not test me. I am taking responsibilities for your welfare. Please do tolerate my cares as best as you can," she eyed him and he didn't miss a slight red tint in her ocean-blue eyes. It was a warning.

Ciel clamped down the urge to curse her out, and crossed his arms, "Fine!" He tried to ignore the softness compressing against his head and shoulder, his face burning.

"Very good." Kagome's laugh rumbled her chest, as clicks of her heels sounded their destination toward a nearby washroom, "Now then, afterward, we can then set upon repairing your manor to suit your tastes. It would be a tad unseemly for a lord to take residence in such an unassuming home." Her smile dropped at the bland state of an unkept township home they took to dwell.

Ciel huffed, offended at her comment on one of many estates the Phantomhive owned, "We can always return to the inn."

"And risk early exposal of your still living state?" Kagome questioned, as a door opened at her command. Warm, heavy air hit Ciel's skin with a blast, before he could make a retort.

His jaw dropped, at the sight before his very eyes, "What is this?"

He remembered that it was quite  _white_ , from floor to ceiling. It was also  _bland_  but was functional. Now, somehow, his lady butler changed the entire appearance of it. The floor was now dark fine wood, with the wall softer shade of similar color. There were tea candles in each corner, flickering flames, floating in a clear glass container of water. There were plants decorated in such ways that it was relaxing to look at.

Even the bathtub had been changed. The old piece had been replaced with one that was lower set and a faucet made of silver and curved in an elegant arc to pour directly over the drain. The rim was also rounded to create a more comfortable space for a person's arms to rest.

Kagome closed to the tub and perched him on the rim, already tugging on his sorry looking clothes he'd insisted on wearing yesterday, "An proper earl deserve nothing less than the best, no? Your muscles had atrophied, and the best way to start the treatment is to relax the strains you've been putting on yourself."

Ciel jerked back his sleeves, his face redder than a tomato, "Do you really intended to wash me!?"

"…Milord, I've bathed you yesterday, from filth." Kagome said, unimpressed by the sudden bout of modesty.

Stiffening Ciel slacked, "I…don't…" He could barely remember yesterday.

Retreating from her master Kagome shook her head, "I will not do what they had done to you. I will promise you that." There was the slightest twinge of disgust, "Not even one such as I would go to such lows."

He blinked, wide-eyed, at her, "No, no, I…" Ciel closed his eyes, "Yes, you're right. My apologies."

Kagome's laugh came quick, sarcastic, "I am a woman—and thoroughly am one."

Thrusting his arms back into her hands, Ciel kept his expression neutral. She was right—there had been no women who laid a finger on him, "Forgive me. I was foolish not to trust you. You are  _my_  faithful butler, after all, who will do me no harm."

"And I never will, on purpose." Kagome was deft, and next thing Ciel knew, he lacked a shirt, "Now then, do let me to take care of you." She was on a knee next and tugged on his trousers, "Rest of your clothing articles, if you please."

He should be  _red_  and be smoking with embarrassment, but he wasn't.

Kagome never leered at him in the same way those  _monsters_  did. Ciel hadn't realized he wore tensions in his shoulders until they fell and soreness thundered throughout his system. He winced. Water ripples distracted him and saw Kagome testing it, her hand bare of the glove, "The water will be hot, so if it's too hot that you are not able to adapt to it, please do tell me and I will regulate it." She instructed him to step into the tub and took ahold of his elbows to help him in.

He tore away from the sight of her black nails, and shuddered at the temperature. He forced himself to ignore his frail body's complaints at the heat and pursed his lips. He never did well with hot water, but for his health, he had to tolerate the water.

Before long every ache in his bones vanished—they seemed to disappear within a matter of seconds. Ciel thumped his head again the high arch of porcelain, "Oh."

"Feeling better?" Kagome's eyes glittered with delight, as she sat before his side with her legs tucked underneath her body, sans her black jacket, "Take a moment to relax, and then I will work on your muscles."

Ciel twisted his nose, "In water?"

"Milord," she flashed him an amused look, "don't you fret."

Taking a moment to gaze upon the woman he broke into a nod, "I trust you." It was foolish to trust a demon, he knew. At her gesture, he shifted from the porcelain.

"For today, let's focus on healing." Kagome started, pouring scented water on his discolored back, "If you were to be an earl, it would be unseemly for anyone to see you at your weakest. I'll take care the rest, for now."

"Thank you." Ciel meant it, sincerely.

She chuckled instead.

* * *

Words: 1510

A/N: FYI, Kagome operates quite differently from Sebastian, although whether if that's a good thing is up to your interpretation. Just remember that Kagome is a demon, and not a good kind (if there even is any).

Fun fact: Youkai is an umbrella term for any supernatural beings ranging from ghosts, gods, demons, to even superpowered humans (folk heroes). Thus why I don't like to use it much in my works, because it'd be inaccurate to apply that term to characters like Sebastian and Claude unless you're intending to group them with characters like Sesshoumaru (Inugami: dog spirit), Shippou (kitsune: fox spirit), and even the Undertaker (Shinigami: death god).

Youkai is much too broad for me to use and it's also a Japanese term (which I feel weird using in my English-written works), so I avoid using it if I can.

That's all from my big mouth. Thanks so much for reading and please review!


	3. His Butler, Wise

It had been over a week since.

Twisting the heavy ring on his thumb Ciel grimaced at the mirror—the very mirror his mother used in her and his father's shared room. Steeling his mind from the fact that he had been moved in the very same room, to honor his new role as the sole Earl of Phantomhive, he glared at himself. He still looked sickly, his skin ashen and his body too slim to be normal for boys his age.

The clothes, much finer than the ones he'd ever worn before and properly fitted, still felt too loose on him.

He felt disgusting in it—he didn't like how noble he looked in this dark-colored suit. He felt like a thief, in a role that shouldn't have been his yet. Coal grey hair draped neatly over his skull, its color returned from dullness with his servant's tender care. It persisted at hiding his good eye and allowing his  _demonic_  eye to mock him from the mirror.

A pentagram—an upside-down star enclosed in a circle wrapped in the design of what looked like ocean waves—shone brilliantly on his dull colored eye. If he dared to look closely, he'd see foreign texts curling within. Ciel could almost say the design was beautiful in its simplicity.

He hated it.

"Kagome," He barked, summoning her from her position at the door, "my eyepatch, if you please."

She was at his side, before he could've blinked. She showed the object he requested in her hands to him from the mirror, "Would you like me to put this on for you?"

Ciel flickered his eyes to meet hers from the reflection. He hummed his confirmation. Funny, he hadn't realized how much taller his lady butler was than he.  _Must've been those heels_ , he decided, as he tipped back his head to allow Kagome the access. Kagome, while looking quite intimidating in her own way, was rather a small woman with exotic looks telling of her origin.

Japanese, he was sure, if he recalled correctly of when he first saw her.

"As you wish." Kagome bowed. She untangled the item and fingered apart his hair. Not giving his shiver much thought Kagome planted the dense black leather over his right eye and held it there, "Milord, if you will please."

His two fingers took her place, and the tie tightened on the back of his skull.

"Is it uncomfortable for you, milord?" Kagome swept aside Ciel's hair, attempting to right it from hindering his remaining sight.

Wrinkling his nose at how distinguished he looked Ciel tore away from the large mirror, "I'll get used to it."

"Very well. Our guests will be here in momentarily." Kagome tapped her heels together, "Will you like to wait here, or shall I escort you to your office? I'll have your tea shortly."

Ciel paused, eying her.

A small woman she may be, the air she gave away was far more sophisticated than anyone he'd ever seen—save for his father. The outfit she wore, was impeccable down to even the tiniest details. Her fashion was of what a proper lady butler was expected to wear, from her tailcoat with tails that end at the top of her calves, pencil skirt that settled over her knees, and thick white stockings covering the entirety of her long legs. On her feet adored a pair of shiny court shoes, with impressive heels, boosting her height even further.

The only difference that set her apart from most lady butlers were her white cravat, with a red glimmering jewel pinning it in place, instead of a typical necktie she had earlier. That jewel was  _his_  mark, that she is serving him and only  _him_. If she were to mark him by leaving her sign in his eye and forced him to wear an eyepatch for the rest of his life, he might as well do the same—if it was only superficial.

Petty but it made him feel a tad better about his appearance.

She laughed about it though.

"Office," Ciel stated, and without a second look, he brisked to the door. The moment she opened it, he resumed, sparing no words for her. He knew she could hear his thudding heart though. Kagome probably didn't miss his clenching fists either.

Keeping close to his back, Kagome hummed, "Don't fret. The tea will help calm you down some. I understand you are nervous about seeing your family again, but—"

"Nervous!?" Ciel spun on his feet, his one eye sparking, "I do not want to see them to see me as is! I do not need their pity!" He spat.

Kagome cocked her head, blinking, "Very understandable, milord, but it had to be done regardless."

Ciel sounded an impressive growl—but there was a flush of the embarrassment of losing control of himself, "Just…"

"Milord," she stepped closer, and a ghost of her finger tilted his chin upward—without ever touching him, "To be an Earl you first must be acknowledged as one. Lord and Lady Midford will give you that. That," Kagome corrected her stance and refolded her hands on her lap, "is the first step, and the easiest."

Shaking out a breath Ciel clamped down his teeth, "Tch. I suppose they'd be better to deal with than Auntie Angelina." Her reaction was...not something he'd ever want to experience again.

"I do not believe it'd just be Lord and Lady Midford," Kagome frowned at her master's stiffening state, "they'd be bringing their son and daughter as well, as I was informed by the steward."

Ciel paled and tore away from her unreadable gaze. An ugly scowl took place on his expression, "Must I see them as well!?"

Keeping the urge to sigh to herself, Kagome pressed insistently at his elbow, "Come, you should have your tea. It will calm your nerves."

He didn't want to. His bed sounded like a much better idea. But, jerking off her grip he nodded and headed to his new office. Ciel didn't remember much of his destination there, but he found himself sitting in the chair much too big for his little ten years old body with a steaming cup of tea in his hands.

It was delicious.

He was surprised and wondered how he hadn't noticed last he had her tea—perhaps he was too distracted to notice tastes. Everything tasted bland for the first few days after his first proper meal, his undernourished state had somehow disabled his taste buds, "This is delicious." Ciel blinked.

Kagome smiled—the smile looked rather genuine for her, "Thank you, milord. It is Chamomile Tea, it does wonders for weak nerves, I've heard."

"…I've half expected you to accomplish poor attempt of making teas," Ciel admitted, eying his lady butler.

That smile turned wicked, "Come now," Kagome pressed her hand over her heart—where it doesn't beat, he was sure, "you've wounded me, milord! How am I a butler, if I cannot succeed at something as simple as making teas?" She softened that smirk, "Where I am from wouldn't allow me to be this pitiful."

"I am assuming you're referring to Japan? I hear they share a similar fondness for teas as we do here." Ciel sipped.

"You'd be correct, milord. Now then," Kagome's cheery expression vanished and in its place was seriousness, "have your nerves calmed yet at the idea of facing the Midford?"

Clinking the tea back onto the saucer Ciel braced with a deep inhale, "I am…better, but I can't say I am ready."

"I may not understand completely of humankind, milord," Kagome murmured, as she refilled his tea, "but I do not expect anyone at your age would be. If I may be so bold to ask," catching Ciel's quirk of a brow, she pressed, "may I offer you an advice?"

Ciel broadened his shoulders and clasped together his hands—it was harder than he expected to be so  _composed_ , like his father always was, "You are my butler and advisor. In this world, there is no one else I can afford to trust more than you." He slid close his eye, "What are you going to tell me?"

Kagome slanted her focus on a glass-fronted cabinet, where it kept artifacts, "Do you see rifles there?"

"What's of them?" Ciel wondered about what she was getting at.

Kagome returned her gaze, "These are Pattern 1861 Enfield Musketoon, muskets that were used in the Second Anglo-Ashanti War, Bhutan War, to name a few, from what I understand of their history." Ciel looked puzzled still. She continued, "These weapons were never at rest with these soldiers. These men were always ready for what may come."

Pushing his back against his chair Ciel frowned, "What are you saying?"

She was frank, "Face everything that comes your way like a battle to be won."

Ciel paused, and after a considerate silence, he nodded, thoughtful "…Huh. I haven't thought of it like that. A battle to be won…That's one way to look at it."

Kagome mused, "Milord, you must preserve, to live. That's a basic philosophy, no?"

 

 

* * *

Words: 1515

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! As per my tradition, I'm updating couple of my fics (early) as a gift for you my dear readers! Hope you'll enjoy!

To answer an anon's question, yes Sebastian will show up in the story. It was wrong of me to assume that you dear readers were aware of that already, since I mentioned this tidbit forever ago in the old version, Troublesome. Although the story itself had changed significantly (and for the better because that one is just poor in so many ways), it still had many parts that carried over—Sebastian included.

I didn't delete him from the existence, I promise. Pretty much everyone will be in the story, from the Reapers, Kuro 2 cast, to even [spoiler alert!]. Sebastian, since Kagome already took over his original position for this story, will have another role—though whether if that's for the better is up to you.

To those who want their questions to be answered immediately, I cannot answer if you're on anon. If that is not an option for you, then please contact me at tumblr (masquerabe) and I will answer there. Hopefully my answer regarding Sebastian assured you?

As always, thanks for reading and please review!


	4. His Butler, Introducing

Dread was becoming a familiar weight.

His lady butler had done a fine job with decors, to welcome his first guests in the newly rebuilt manor. However, he made sure not to have his home too extravagant—it was bad enough that Kagome had rebuilt the mansion within an impossible time frame, but to make it to look like brand new after a month of being covered in black soot and littered in scattered bricks and broken glass shards. It would arouse too much suspicions.

Instead, he had his home  _empty_  of what makes it a noble's home. He only had enough to satisfy his guests, but not enough to impress them. It hurts to think this—the Phantomhive Manor was one of most elegant homes there was in the Queen's country. It was a source of pride for his father.

Now, he'd have to start over.

Ciel sensed that Kagome wasn't pleased downgrading his home, but she hadn't complained at his explanation. She'd only needed to clear certain rooms and to make sure that his guests wouldn't wander beyond what were welcomed. She accepted, and made uses of her master key.

Should he stand and wait for the Midford at the bottom of stair? Should he hide in his office, like a coward? What should he do? His eyes felt heavy. Everything  _still_  felt wrong. Suddenly, he was glad that his butler gently rejected his request to see his remaining family, so he  _could heal_. He knew Kagome had been willing to follow through, but she was responsible for his welfare and saw his needs first.

"Young Master," he didn't react at the old man's call—Tanaka was still in his wheelchair, and refused to meet his eyes when Tanaka pressed a withered hand on his shoulder, "you are brave."

Pinning his lips into a thin line Ciel glued his attention at his butler, when she went flittering about to check for flaws in undistinguished decors, "I have to be."

Tanaka dropped his hand, and followed his gaze, "Young Master, all will be well. Ms. Blackwell will ensure it." He stated firmly.

Funny, this old man scantly met the woman a week before, and already he had faith in this stranger. Perhaps he was becoming senile. Ciel clenched his hands at his back, "She will." He agreed, flatly.

"Oh!" Kagome stopped straightening the drapery at a window. Leveling on her feet she craned toward her master, "They're here, milord. You can stay where you are."

Ciel didn't afford her a reply.

He wondered how his aunt Frances would react—she had quite an outdated view on women's standing, something he found hypocrisy in given who she was. But, if anyone could change her ways of thinking, then it'd be his lady butler.

* * *

 Her heart had jumped in her throat, when she caught words from her brother that Ciel—her dearest cousin, was still alive days ago. With tears in eyes she'd fought with her parents to see him, and they'd gave in. So there she was, sitting next to Edward and was trying not to break his hand with her grip.

Lizzie couldn't meet her mother's stern eyes—though she knew she too had heartbreak within, and instead focused on the passing green outside the window. The ride was bumpy, and once again she wondered  _why_  they'd be meeting Ciel back to the manor.

That manor was nothing more than a crumby building with great black marks climbing through it like diseases. It was the proof of great tragedy, of many lives lost, on the day that was supposed to be the happiest day. The fire raged through it so hot that some bodies were nothing more than charcoals.

She hadn't slept for a week afterward, sick that she and her family were  _late_  to the party—the delay that saved their lives but cost them many of their beloved.

None of them returned since.

So, why there?

It was a question neither of her parents could answer—but they had been summoned, to see if what they were told were true.

She'd have to see for herself.

"What is in the name…?" Lord Midford gaped.

Lady Midford was rendered speechless, her composed, plain face was replaced with wide eyes and slacked mouth—an expression she'd otherwise be embarrassed about. Puzzled, both of their children crossed brows, "Mother…?" They chorused and then turned to look out through the window.

The manor stood in its original glory, the landscape sparkled with winter's greenery as if they never experienced the touch of Hellfire. There was no black mark anywhere on its bricked wall and the perfectly intact windows gleamed from the rolling sunlight, bearing not a single scratch. It was as if what they had seen a month before, was nothing more than a terrible nightmare.

Lizzie gagged out her surprise, "The manor!" Her heart squeezed itself in her chest, "But I thought—!"

"It was burnt down." Lady Midford snapped her teeth shut and hissed, "How is that possible?"

Edward's brows drew in deeper, and attempted to apply a possibility, "When was last time we'd seen it? It could've been worked on over in the last month, Mother." He couldn't tear away from the sight, his fingers aching at the cushion. It'd been cold earlier, from the winter wind, but Edward could no longer feel it.

Lord Midford could not speak, his face pale and confusion took deep within. He hadn't meant to, but he unconsciously reached over to grasp his wife's hand. His Lady didn't refuse him, and returned the squeeze.

Tightening her lips Lady Midford straightened and corrected herself as a proper lady would, "Let us see what will occur, my dear children." She stated, as her shoulders broadened.

Lizzie eyed her, her skirt was becoming wrinkled at her wringing, "He's alive…" She drew in a hopeful breath.

"Let us see, Elizabeth. Now, quit ruining your dress." Her mother narrowed her eyes.

She let it go and flattened it the best she could, squirming in her seat. Lizzie hadn't noticed the weight of her brother's comforting hand on her back, nor did she realize she had rested against his warmth.

The horses stopped, whinnying at the driver's snap of his reign. His voice was so cold, so empty, that Lizzie blinked awake from her stupor with a shudder, when he announced their arrival, "Lords and Ladies of Midford, we are here."

Their servant, who had taken a neighboring seat with the driver, flung away from the man and opened the door of their borrowed carriage, "Milord, milady!" He looked relieved to see them—or perhaps he was glad to be away from the strange man who spoke very little.

Lord Midford made to step out first, but Lizzie zipped past him and took to the ground running to the front door, "Elizabeth!" He squawked.

She ignored her father and disregarded her mother's loud upset, when she flew up the short flight of stair, "Ciel!" She cried out, desperation clear in her voice for her best friend. She moved to pound on the door.

Her fist swung downward, when the door dodged her hit. She found her face planted onto a course fabric, "Eh?" She blinked, and wondered why she had something firm and soft on her head, "Wh—?"

"Oh my!" The fabric rumbled, amused, "Are you alright, little missus?" Slim hands gripped her shoulders and corrected her standing.

"Eh?" Lizzie found herself repeating, and saw that she was staring at a slim stomach—one with a hooked, looped chain of gold. Her eyes trailed upward, and saw generous breasts compressed underneath a jacket, "Oh." Her cheeks burned, but she continued to ruby red lips. Lizzie then met a pair of dark eyes. They were glittering, reminding her of the calm water of river catching moonlight on a fine spring evening. She squeaked, hopping backward, "Oh, I'm so sorry—"

"Young lady! How dare you to run off like that!?" Her lady mother stood behind her, justly upset. Lizzie found herself being jerked backward to her mother's stomach and winced when her nails buried deep through her thick coat, "And may I ask just who you are?" She snarled.

The woman hadn't floundered at Lady Midford's glare, a feat Lizzie found impressive for her mother's infamous strictness. She instead beamed a smile, "I am Ms. Kagome Blackwell, the Lady Butler of Phantomhive." She clasped her white gloved hands at her waist, and tipped a bow, "I presume you are the Midford?"

Lady Midford grimaced, "A Lady Butler? How absurd. That duty is not for women."

Ms. Blackwell still kept her smile, not wavering to the heat of her mother's insult, "That's not up to discussion, I am afraid. Now, you are here to see the young Master, yes?" She stepped aside, at Lady Midford's sneered confirmation, and allowed them access.

Lizzie gaped, "Ciel?" She made to run, but her mother's grip kept her in place.

Ciel refused to meet her eyes.

* * *

 Words: 1500


	5. His Butler, Welcoming

Was that really Ciel? The one who promised to be her best friend forever? Lizzie peered at him, hurt drumming in her heart that he wouldn't meet her eyes.

Nor would he smile.

He refused to smile.

It was as if he lost his will to be happy.

"Welcome," Ciel's tone was chipped, his voice lacking the childhood innocence, "forgive us for not having proper accommodations. This place is still a work in progress, I'm afraid." He closed in to, not to Lizzie, but his aunt, Frances.

"…Is that you, Ciel?" Frances clenched onto her daughter, to keep her obedient. She couldn't tell who this boy was—he looked so… _different_  in his mannerisms. Where was the cheery nephew of hers? She snapped her head at her husband, to keep his mouth shut.

Her dear Alexis clicked close his mouth and kept Edward nearby.

Ciel didn't want to be touched.

The way he stood, he acted as if he was a prey, waiting to escape.

Never mind that they were his family who loved him since birth.

"Who else would it be?" Ciel murmured. Evening his little shoulders in ways no small child ever should, he tilted his head high, "I am Ciel Phantomhive, and I will ask to be recognized as the Earl of my namesake."

"Cie—" Lizzie ached to hug him.

"Quiet, child." Frances squeezed her tighter, "Let Ciel and I have our pieces."

Lizzie wanted to protest, but with her mother's hardened eyes she didn't. She shifted away to the safety of her brother and her father's presences and took her position. She was the part of the audience now, to witness the new beginning of Phantomhive once thought dead. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

Frances dropped her eyes close, "Ciel, is that what you want?" She pressed her tongue up against the roof of her mouth, inwardly debating with herself. She continued, "After all what had happened?"

Boring holes in his aunt's head Ciel thinned his lips, and found himself appreciating the nearness of his butler—she was in an arms distance, she was  _right_  there. He dropped his head into a stiff nod, "I do not have any other choice, Aunt."

No Auntie. Just… _Aunt_.

It didn't sound right to Frances.

Defeated and finding no battle to fight Frances sighed, "Very well, but I must ask one question before we get to the proceeding." She turned her eyes sharply to his lady butler, "Where is in the  _world_  did you come from? How is it that you've come to be his butler?"

She was becoming too aggressive and Alexis hurried in, to calm the situation before it could've erupted, "Franny dear pleas—" He swallowed his fear, when Frances' eyes sharpened at him, "Pardon me." He murmured, submitting to his wife's wills. Edward and Lizzie kept their tongues in between their teeth, keeping from irritating their mother further.

Ciel eyed her, brooding over how to answer her question.

"Milord?" He turned at Kagome's call, "May I speak?" She leveled her eyes to the floor, to keep her respect for her own position obvious.

"Please." Ciel tipped his head, when she approached closer to her master

Kagome nodded, "Thank you, milord." She tilted her waist at Lady Midford, and her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders, "To answer your question, milord offered me a position under his employment in exchange of keeping him safe and cared for." She knocked her heels together and smiled, "As you may see, milord is safe and well as he can be, given the current circumstances."

"How are you a sufficient protector?" Frances blandly questioned—this woman was  _small_  and didn't look as if she'd lift even a butter knife before in her life.

Smothering an urge to laugh at the shimmering doubt in the lady's words, Kagome took her spot behind her master and minded the old steward, "That is a question that will have to be answered another day, Lady Midford. There's a matter of more importance than I." She brightened, her thick eyelashes fluttered close, "We should concentrate on that instead."

Frances fixated a hard stare at the woman—but finally, she breaks into a nod, appreciating the stranger's professionalism, "Very well."

"Thank you, Kagome." Ciel returned, and then waved a hand at the Midford family, "Would you prefer the afternoon meal before Lord and Lady Midford and I hold our proceeding, or had you already eaten?"

Meeting her husband's eyes and gained his silent approval Frances agreed, "Perhaps we should have lunch—it'd do our nerves better." She found herself grateful that no one had much appetite to eat, being struck by the anxiety of seeing the boy again.

Kagome tilted her head into a nod, "The meal is being prepared as we speak. I do apologize for strange hours," she flashed them a guilty look, "but we thought it'd be appropriate to welcome you with a meal nonetheless." She gestured toward a room where they knew where the dining awaited, with her smile making its return, "I'll take your coats and afterward, follow me if you will may."

Tanaka immediately rejected, when Kagome half-turned toward him and refused her an opportunity to speak, "Don't fret, I can take myself there. Go and ready their plates."

Eying him for a brief moment Kagome conceded, "If that is what you wish."

"I'll help you, Mr. Tanaka!" Edward volunteered. He wore a pink flush across his cheeks when he tried not to gaze too long at the lady butler. He'd already tugged off his jacket.

Tanaka met Kagome's eyes, and then chuckled at the tall boy, "Well, if Lord and Lady Midford do not mind, I'll accept your assistance, Young Master."

Frances tossed a hand at Edward and Tanaka, and keeping a distrustful watch at the butler when she approaches for her coat, she nodded, "If you like, dear Edward." She frowned at Ciel when he hurried closer to the door. He kept a cautious distance from even them.

She didn't miss the hurtful flash dancing across her daughter's face, nor was she deaf to her whisper, "Ciel?"

Frances closed her eyes at Lizzie's further words, "What had happened to you?"

* * *

Words: 1020

A/N: Not really happy with this chapter, but you good readers and even this chapter's illustration had been waiting long enough. I need to get started on the next chapter's illustration...and 6+ more after that. Whoops.


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